Coming Home
by Sabi's dream world
Summary: Sherlock is back in London. John doesn't know. What will Sherlock do? (Loosely connected to timeline. The main point is that it's post Sherlock's "death" and him now coming back. Slightly OOC, especially for Sherlock. It's not easy getting into his head.)
1. Decisions

Sherlock has been back in London for a few weeks now. He tries to distract himself with anything, though he avoided drugs as much as he could. It wasn't easy what with having no crimes to solve. His phone rings and what with his death there was only one person it could be. His brother.

"Brother." Sherlock says.

"You're going to drive yourself mad."

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock asks though he knows Mycroft is referring to his idleness.

"Just tell John you're alive."

"I will when it's safe."

"It is safe. That's the whole point of your death and these past nearly two years."

"This is Moriarty we are talking about Mycroft. It's never safe."

"Yes, it is. You've double checked. No triple checked. And so have I and my people. He deserves to know that you are alive."

"Yes. I'm sure he'll be so happy to see me." Sherlock says sarcastically as he looks out the window of the car. He sat several houses down from John's current house that he shared with a woman called Mary. There was something fishy about her but he couldn't figure it out. One thing he knew for sure was that John didn't need to know he was live.

He hangs up promptly.

"He's doing just fine without me." Sherlock mutters to himself.

As if on cue the rain starts to fall to reflect his mood. Or maybe it was just London. The fact that he could even think it was anything but it being London only showed how John's thinking infected him. It might be better for both of them if Sherlock continued to stay out of his life.


	2. Still On My Mind

JOHN POV

John takes the grocery bags out of Mary's hands.

"You have got to stop carrying things around. You are already carrying a child in your body. I can take care of the bags."

"I'm fine John."

"I know you are but just enjoy someone doing things for you, yeah?" John says. Mary smiles.

"Always the gentleman." Mary smiles back and opens the door to their house.

Their house was starting to look more like a baby's room everyday with random blue bunnies strewn across the living room or kitchen. After John started dating Mary and she became pregnant he felt like maybe he was slowly beginning to come to terms with Sherlock's death. He had a good job at the hospital and a loving woman, yet he felt like something was missing in his life. Of course, he knew exactly what that was. The unhealthy friendship, if you could even call it that, he had with his old flatmate. John would appear where needed the moment he got a text from Sherlock. And despite his grumbling he secretly enjoyed being Sherlock's sounding board. But that was gone now. He knew that eventually he would have to settle down, and maybe the only way to do that was with Sherlock gone. He just wished Sherlock wouldn't appear in his nightmares anymore. He no longer dreamt of the war, he dreamt of Sherlock's fall and his inability to do anything about it.

Mary wis in their bedroom taking a nap and John is standing by the window. For a moment he thought he saw a tall man in a coat and dark curls but he knows it was only his mind playing tricks on him. Soon after Sherlock's death he saw him everywhere but overtime it stopped.

He checks his messages and saw a voicemail from Greg. He feels guilty for not returning his calls too often but sometimes it was too painful to talk to someone whom he associated with Sherlock. Thankfully he is sure his friend understands that. John doesn't even check up on Mrs. Hudson as often as he should. He brings excuses of the expectant child but really it is the fear of curling up in a ball in the old apartment and never leaving.


	3. Apartment

SHERLOCK POV

Sherlock stood by the window of an apartment Mycroft had acquired for him. He was itching to get to his old apartment.

"Brother. If you do not leave this apartment and go back to your old one I will have to resort to drastic measures." Mycroft's voice comes from behind Sherlock. Sherlock doesn't bother turning around.

"Your drastic measures strike fear in me brother." Sherlock answers emphasizing the last word.

"I will evict you from this property if that is the only thing that can push you back to Baker Street."

"I never asked you to give me a place to stay. I can find one on my own."

At that Mycroft laughs leaning down on his umbrella. Sherlock turns his head for a second to glare at his older brother.

"In the state you are on? Hardly." Mycroft smirks.

"I believe I found a slight flaw in your plan for me to go back to Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson is still alive is she not?"

"Yes." Mycroft says trying to figure out where this is going.

"I would induce a heart attack in her, she is not the youngest of women."

"It is doubtful it would be a heart attack. Merely a moment of shock."

"A moment followed by too many questions I have no time for or any interest in answering."

"Is that the flaw you found? I am disappointed."

"The flaw is that Mrs. Hudson talks a lot. Of course the first person she will tell is John." Sherlock says lightly rolling his eyes as if he were talking to a particularly young child.

Mycroft smiles. "It always comes back down to John doesn't it."

Sherlock narrows his eyes. "I just do not think it is safe for John to know that I am alive. Frankly, I do not believe it would be good for either one of us to be near each other."

"And why is that?"

"He has infected me with his...average thinking."

Mycroft raises his eyebrows.

"My deduction skills are slower and I tend to attribute reasons for certain things happening, well, to the wrong reasons." Sherlock says matter-of-factly not wanting to go into too much detail.

Sherlock can feel his brother shaking his head and finally hears him leave.

After his shower Sherlock walks over to bed. It was three in the morning. He had been working on an experiment and finally had a break through. He had hoped it would exhaust him and he would fall asleep immediately but he was wrong to have such hopes.

He wonders how Mrs. Hudson was doing. If he closes his eyes and concentrates hard enough he could smell the old apartment with John flittering about muttering to himself annoyed at Sherlock for this and that. It brings a smile to Sherlocks lips only to die down when he opens his eyes to the silent, foreign apartment he was in now. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to pay Mrs. Hudson a visit, however he would have to make her promise not to tell John. That shouldn't be too hard.

Putting on his coat, Sherlock ventures outside calling a cab for Baker Street.

He gets out of the black car and stands in front of the door. The number 221 was still there, nice and shiny. He takes a deep breath and unlocks the door with the key he still had. He wasn't sure why he was in need of so many deep breaths. He persuades himself it was just the weather. Slowly, he walks in and up the stairs. Not much has changed in the old apartment, it just feels...emptier. Some of the furniture seems to be missing and it feels dusty. He takes a deep breath, this time to get in the smell of the apartment. Surely he could live back here again, John or not. He did it before, no reason why now was any different. Besides, even if he told John he was alive, John had a house now with a woman. No reason to return.

He strides over to the window. Oh how he has missed the view. It wasn't particularly interesting or that different from the millions of similar views in other apartments in London. But this was...their view, er, his view. Taking off his black leather gloves he digs in his pockets until he comes upon a packet of cigarettes. He takes them out and stares at them for what seems like longer than necessary. He has done well for the last few weeks. He did well before Moriarty but they had dosed him with various drugs while he was 'dead' and then he spent weeks in a rehabilitation centre until he persuaded Mycroft to get him the hell out of there. He was doing well. But being back in London is...It brings back a lot of memories and his violin was nowhere in sight. He is also dangerously bored, so he takes out a cigarette and brings it to his lips. He looks to his right and smiles when he sees his old lighter sitting on top of the mantle. He couldn't believe how relaxing it is to just stand there in the peace of the apartment listening to the rush outside and having a smoke.

He can hear the door downstairs closing. Mrs. Hudson is home. Hoping that her observation skills haven't gotten any better, he just stands quietly for her to go to her apartment. He hears a footstep on the stairs leading to this apartment. Apparently her observation skills have gotten slightly better, though they were still horrendous.

He continues to stare out the window, cigarette in his lips, and waits for the oncoming shock and sleuth of words. Glass shatters behind him but he doesn't turn. He blames it on not caring but if he dug deep enough he would see that it was the fear of her reaction.

"Sher-sherlock?" Comes the whispered question from behind him. There truly is only so long that he can stay with his back to her. Taking a deep drag he puts out the cigarette beside him and turns around.

"Hello Mrs. Hudson." He says putting his arms behind him. He takes in the woman standing before him. Her bones seem more pronounced than they were two years ago, her skin seems more pale, one might even say ashen, she also looks like she is more hunched over. He then takes in her eyes. One would think she had seen a ghost...which, thinking about it, she probably thinks she is.

"It's alright. It's really me." Sherlock says putting a placating hand up fearing that she might break down. He wasn't too good with people's emotions and never knew when a certain emotion would come up. That's why he had John.

"But...you're dead..." She says matter-of-factly.

"Yes. Well that is what you were to believe. But I am not actually dead." A sort of pride welling up in him at how well his plan to fake his death went.

She continues to stare at him. She is more silent than he expected her to be and suddenly he feels he would much rather her talk and ask questions because he doesn't really know how to begin.

"I understand it's shocking but I had to get rid of Moriarty and the only way to do it was for him to believe that I was dead. I then went to dismantle his people and now I'm back." He says expecting it to be enough.

"This is...why didn't you tell anyone? Someone must have known." She was good, Sherlock thinks to himself.

"Yes, two people knew. I did need help after all."

"So John and who else?" Mrs. Hudson asks narrowing her eyes.

The fact that she presumed John was one of the people threw Sherlock off a little. Why would she presume that? He wouldn't have been helpful in the faking of his death and he was in the most danger from Moriarty.

"No, John didn't know. My brother knew and Molly."

"Molly? And you didn't tell John? I was about to say he was a good actor for the show he gave of your death but...the suffering was real. Just like everybody else's. Oh Sherlock. You've made a mess you know that? And I don't mean a physical one like usual. Do you have any idea how you hurt John? And the others, but John most importantly."

"I am sure he will be fine."

"You must tell him!"

"I will not be telling him Mrs. Hudson. I have thought it through and believe it for the best." He says strictly.

Her eyes widen.

"And I must ask you not to tell him either." He commands despite it being more of a request.

"I cannot do such a thing."

"Mrs. Hudson. I have very good reasons for not telling him. Besides, he has moved on and it will be better for both of us."

"Oh Sherlock. You say he has moved on but if you looked closely you would see that he could never move on." She says quietly something akin to pity in her eyes. He wonders whether the pity was directed at him or John.

He brushes his hand in the air to dismiss the topic they were on.

"I had another matter I wanted to discuss with you." He begins.

"Sherlock. You came back from the dead, so to speak, and you want to discuss matters? Can you at least give me a moment to make tea?"

Sherlock is about to protest but suddenly realizes that tea would be an excellent idea. He misses tea. It was sappy and he hopes this phase of nostalgia would blow over soon.

Mrs. Hudson comes back with the smell of tea flowing in before her. Sherlock takes a deep breath through his nose and a smile plays along his lips. John and him would be deep in the middle of a case and Mrs. Hudson would come complaining that she wasn't their carer after which she would clean up and bring them tea and biscuits. He had to admit he did have a soft spot for the woman.

"This matter Sherlock?" she asks and gently places a hand on his face as if she couldn't yet believe he was actually there.

"I would like to move back in." Sherlock states.

Her eyebrows raise and she smiles. "...Only if you tell John you are alive."


	4. Promises

SHERLOCK POV

After a long debate with Mrs. Hudson Sherlock promised that he would think about telling John. The apartment was nearly his again and Mrs. Hudson left the flat muttering to herself something about silly boys.

Sherlock looks around the flat and a lonely feeling seeds itself in his stomach. With Moriarty's network destroyed he has nothing to do. He takes his phone out and searches for Lestrade's phone number. He presses the call button and waits.

"He-hello?" The voice of Lestrade on the other end says with uncertainty.

"Yes, it's me Sherlock. Do you have anything interesting?"

There's silence.

"Lestrade? Hello?" Sherlock asks.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

"But...you're..."

Ah. Sherlock forgot that Lestrade wasn't privy to his being alive yet. Truly, Sherlock's death was going to prove itself to be a thorn in his side if he had to go around explaining himself to everyone. He really just wants a job to work on and get on with it.

"Right. I'm not dead. It's a long story. I'm at the old flat." Sherlock says and is about to hang up when he says: "And don't tell John about me!" And then he hangs up.

In the meantime he decides to go search for his violin, he has a feeling he might be needing it soon.

"Ha! There you are!" Sherlock exclaims when he finds the copper-colored beauty.

"I really want to punch you right now." A voice says from behind Sherlock.

"Why is that detective?" Sherlock asks and turns around to face him.

"You died! Or apparently didn't but for us you did! Was it some kind of joke?"

"I don't do jokes Lestrade. I was simply dismantling Moriarty's network."

"What does that have to do with your fake death?"

"I needed him to believe I was dead. And to lead him away from John...by making him and everyone believe that I was dead." Sherlock says matter-of-factly. He really didn't understand why it would be so hard to understand.

"You're a bastard you know that? Do you have any idea how John has been suffering? Do you?" Lestrade comes closer to him, his eyes fired up. He was sure he has never seen him in such a state before.

"I have been informed of that...But it had to be done."

"And then you call me suddenly after two years! It nearly gave me a heart attack when I saw your name on the phone screen. I thought it was some prank but your voice and the way you speak are hard to replicate..."

"Yes, well, maybe I should have come in person. My apologies. Now, do you have some interesting cases?"

"No, no, no. No cases for you, not until you tell John that you are alive." Lestrade says crossing his arms like some teenage girl.

"Why is everyone giving me all these conditions? I will think about it, detective inspector. I have already promised Mrs. Hudson and my brother that I will think about it. Now I am promising you. Now, cases?"

"Fine."

Sherlock didn't realize it until he saw the D.I. in person but he had missed the man. They had known each other for years now and he was one of the only people who tolerated Sherlock being different.

There was a sinking feeling in his stomach with the knowledge that he now had many promises to keep, and they were all the same promise. Would it truly be a good idea for him to tell John he was alive? Could he avoid John? London was a big city but the didn't mean you couldn't run into people. After all, just because he revealed himself to John didn't mean that John would have to be back in his life. And maybe that was what was scaring Sherlock the most. That John wouldn't accept him anymore.


	5. Reminders

JOHN POV

"John! Why are you still here?" Mary calls out from the bedroom.

"I'm sorry?" John asks confused. He was preparing a meal for the two of them but walks over to the bedroom. He doesn't enjoy yelling from one room to the other. Maybe it reminds him too much of his time with Sherlock.

"Weren't you supposed to go out with Greg tonight? To the pub, remember?" Mary looks at him and puts her hand on his forehead.

"Are you alright, John?" She asks concern written all over her face. Concern was always always written on her face, from the moment they met, to the moments he talked about Sherlock, to moments he didn't talk about him, to moments like these. He wonders if it will ever leave her face or has it become a permanent feature of hers.

"I'm fine, I just forgot." John says. He hadn't completely forgotten just tried to avoid it, the same way he avoided phone calls from Greg, Mrs. Hudson, Molly and even Mycroft, though one couldn't truly avoid Mycroft no matter how one tried. Cars would show up and pretty secretaries staring into their phones would force him to get in. John used to struggle against getting in but one day he just resigned himself to seeing an echo of Sherlock in Mycroft's face.

"Well you better hurry up, you're already late." She says with a smile.

He walks over to the closet and takes out a different shirt, when a hand appears on his shoulder.

"It's okay to feel sad meeting up with a friend. He reminds you of your time with Sherlock, it's understandable. And Greg knows that, so don't feel guilty for trying to avoid him. But this will be good for you both."

John smiles. Mary was always good at figuring out what was going through his head and calming him down.

The pub wasn't too far from their house so he walks there instead of taking a cab. Walking in he sees a figure sitting on a bar stool with two empty glasses of beer in front of him. Was he that late that Greg already had several pints in him? He walks over to the man and claps him on the shoulder. The detective looks up and smiles but it's as if he was forcing himself to smile. John immediately feels guilty. Was he the one to induce this sadness in him because he rarely answered his calls anymore?

"Are you alright Greg?" He asks and waves the barman over to order a pint for himself.

"Just a...bad day you could say. Well maybe a good day, but in essence a bad day. No, a confusing day. Yes, that's it." Greg says and John can see that the alcohol was already taking it's effect. There was always a sad mood when they talked nowadays, no matter what they talked about. But John was used to being the one to make it worse, not Greg.

"What happened?"

Greg just waves it away. "Nothing important really. I don't feel like talking about it."

Even though he was curious John didn't push him. He understood the feeling of everyone wanting John to talk about his feelings about Sherlock's death when he just wanted to ignore it or move on.

In the end they talk about Molly, Greg's girlfriend, who's been avoiding him a little bit. John talks about Mary and him, and the child that's on its way. Greg doesn't talk about any cases because he knows that it reminds John of Sherlock. Though if John were quite honest with himself, anything was capable of reminding him of Sherlock, that's how screwed he was. They talk about their early years when they were young and spry. Throughout the evening John could see Greg was fidgeting a lot and sometimes avoiding eye contact with him but waves it off as them not having seen each other in a while.

As he's in his bed he smiles. In the end he was happy he went. Greg was still his friend, no matter how painful it was to be around him. A tear of frustration trickles down his face as he wonders whether he'll ever get over the tall, lithe man with the curly hair and ridiculously prominent cheekbones. The man that frustrated him every single moment of his life but also gave him a sense of purpose and youthfulness that he was sure was long gone. As the darkness of sleep takes hold the last image that he sees is Sherlock standing by the pool as John walks out with a bomb on his body. Will his last image ever be Mary?


	6. Rejection Hides

Sherlock paces the room in the flat that's not Baker Street. He plasters on three nicotine patches to relieve himself of the pain throbbing in his mind, his body, his heart. He looks outside, the city bustling about without a care about the turmoil going on inside Sherlock. This is why he avoided people, this is why he never understood people. How does one deal with the pain? Because no matter what people leave you, or you leave them. Life happens just like it did with Sherlock and John, and even fake death happens. When people care they do things for others. When people care they jump off of buildings for them. When people care they endure torture. When people care they hide out in a flat and never tell them they are there. Sherlock, for the first time in his life truly cares and it confuses him.

How was he supposed to tell John that he was alive? Should he show up at his door and smile? Should he send him a text message like the old times? Should he call him? Should he asks someone else to do it? Should he write him a letter explaining himself? Should he just jump off of that building for real and be done with it?

There is no bloody manual for this. Not that he knows of at least.

This was one of the reasons why Sherlock needs John. To tell him how to do life. John knew, Sherlock was clueless.

He isn't sure why his heart races. Is it the anxiety of not knowing? His whole life Sherlock knew everything whilst others didn't. Is it the anxiety of seeing John again, close up? It has been too long. The longer he doesn't see him, the longer the image he has in his mind is distorted. Of course, deep down even Sherlock knows that it's the fear. The fear of rejection. His whole life he's been rejected by people because he was different. But then John jumped into his life and shook the universe up. Sherlock secretly clamoured for John's appreciation, his veiled adoration, he wanted John to accept him and he had. But now...after what happened...Sherlock knew that it wouldn't be easy. If Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson reacted the way they had he feared how John would. He didn't care to be accepted by people. He cared to be accepted by John.

Sherlock spends the rest of the day figuring out a way to tell John, to make him understand.


	7. Double Life

MARY POV

Mary comes out of the meeting with Jareg. It hadn't been pleasant, especially when she found out something that would shake her universe. Apparently, Sherlock Holmes was alive and well, and back in London. Instead of going back to the hospital for her shift she sits on the curb of the street and puts her head in her hands. She didn't know Sherlock personally but she might as well with how much she's heard about him. Happiness for John sweeps over her followed by jealousy of him taking her husband away from her and finally fear of the famous man deducing everything about her. She has a secret life that she doesn't want John to know about. He's had enough instability in his life, too much pain and all she wants to do is to make him happy by being the good wife and mother to their child. But with Sherlock in town she knows it's only a matter of time before the universe John and her have built begins to crumble. She wipes away the tear that drops down her face. How can she go home and pretend like she doesn't know that her husband's dead best friend is alive? How can Sherlock do this to the man he cares for so much? Ever since she met John Mary had resigned herself to being in second place for John, and it truly didn't bother her, however, Sherlock being alive changed everything.

Mary settles down in bed after work. John should be home any moment and Mary has spent the past hour trying to figure out a way to look inconspicuous. Of course, she has been hiding her full identity so maybe it won't be too hard. As soon as she hears the door shut she picks up the nearest magazine and pretends to read it.

"Hey. How was work?" She asks.

"Uneventful as usual." John replies. She is well aware of John's adventures with Sherlock and in the army. She knows he misses it.

"Well, on one hand that's good I suppose. No evil happening in the world." Mary says with a tight smile.

John gives her a kiss on the cheek.

"Are you alright?" He asks.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem...really tired."

"Well I am carrying a child."

"I know. I meant...more tired than usual."

"It's been a long day, that's all. Do you mind if I go to bed early?"

"That's fine. Good night love."

"Good night."

She lies on her back with her eyes closed but it's a long time before she can fall asleep. All she keeps thinking about is Sherlock's appearance back in London and the inevitability of John finding out.


	8. Help Me

SHERLOCK POV

Sherlock is walking through the dark hallways of the hospital's basement. The lights flicker above him. Finally he stops at one of the doors. It isn't a particularly interesting door but he could find it in his sleep what with how much time he used to spend there. He thinks about just walking in but retracts his hand from the handle. Unlike with Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade he knows that Molly knows about him being alive, after all she helped him do it. However, he needs her help and the only way to get help is to be nice. He gently knocks on the door.

"Come in!" A soft voice comes from behind the door. Sherlock always found it fascinating that such a gentle and sensitive creature like Molly would work with death, day in and day out.

He pushes down the handle and takes a step inside. As he does so Molly looks up and Sherlock sees her face turn from happy to surprised.

"Sherlock, you're back! What are you doing in London?" She asks.

"Well where else would I go?"

"I thought the point of your death was to avoid London and get rid of Moriarty." She replies.

"I dismantled his network. And London's my home."

"Have you gone to John yet?"

He's about to reply, his mouth open and ready but he shuts it closed.

"Sherlock..." She says.

"That's why I'm here." He says.

Molly frowns and finally puts down her instruments ready to listen fully.

"I wasn't planning on telling him but, well, I'm being bullied into it." He says crossing his arms and pouting like a little child.

"Bullied? By your brother?"

"Well him, Mrs. Hudson, and the detective inspector."

Her face falls. Sherlock isn't sure if it can go any lower.

"Greg knows?" She asks quietly.

"He found out two days ago."

"That explains a lot." She mutters.

"Wait...why are you here again?"

Sherlock takes a deep breath. He isn't one to go around begging for help but he was lost and out of all the things he could mess up his friendship with John was one of those he didn't want to.

"I need your help telling John." He says quietly looking at a green beaker. He can see her face light up again.

"I hope you don't expect me to tell him." She says at first.

He's tempted to say yes.

"I need to find a way that's best. If that means someone else telling him then yes. I don't know if I should write him a letter or tell him in person. What if he has a heart attack? Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade barely managed." He says.

"I'll help you Sherlock, John's my friend too. I don't think telling him through a letter would be enough. You have to tell him in person." She says.

Sherlock was afraid of that.

"But how?"

"In the end, no matter how much you plan in advance, it won't go the way you plan it to."

"I can prepare for different reactions."

"This isn't a formula Sherlock. This is...Just..." She doesn't finish and sighs instead. Sherlock isn't sure what she is trying to say.

"Should I pretend like nothing happened?"

"No!" She nearly yells taking Sherlock aback.

"I can maybe set up a meeting between me and him somewhere. And instead of him meeting me he'll meet you?" She says it like she's unsure of herself. He's glad he isn't the only one feeling unsure. It's a very unsettling feeling.

Sherlock rides back to his apartment and stares out of the window for the better part of the night. He doesn't stare at anything in particular, mostly just breathes the air. He has one day to prepare for what he is going to say to John before he actually has to do it. He has one day to figure out if he wants to back out or not. He has one day to prepare for having his life finally crumble to pieces.


	9. Going Back

Mary is asleep when John wakes up and gets ready to leave. On his way to the hospital his phone buzzes. Looking at the screen he frowns.

"Molly?" He picks up the phone. He doesn't remember how long it's been since he's talked to her but he was sure it's been longer than necessary. Guilt floods through his body, again.

"Hi John. Are you busy?" The woman on the other end says. She seems unsure. But maybe she was always like that.

"Just on my way to work."

"I was hoping we could meet sometime today? After work?"

John raises his eyebrows in surprise. He definitely wasn't expecting this.

"Is Greg alright?" He asks because that's the only reason he could think of for her calling him.

"What?...Oh, yeah. He's fine. Well...he will be, anyways. So?"

"I don't know, I mean Mary and the baby..." John feels bad for taking out his usual excuse.

"Please? It won't be long."

"Alright...Four o'clock?"

"Sounds good. Baker street."

"W-what?"

"We'll meet at Baker street."

"Molly...I don't know..."

"I'll see you then!" Molly says and promptly hangs up.

John looks down at the phone. He suddenly realizes that he's been standing in the middle of the sidewalk and people are awkwardly trying to get by him.

Is this some strange way to try to get John to get over Sherlock? Why else would Molly ask to meet him at Baker street of all places?

He can't concentrate at work. All he can think about is the fact that he's going to be at the old apartment.

He stands in front of the 221 door. It hasn't changed much but his memory of it is rusty. He never took a good look at it, Sherlock and him always left in such a hurry and came back when it was dark. Looking to his left and right he wonders if this is some trick but Molly wouldn't do this to him. His breathing is laboured so he tries to take a deep breath but it isn't working. He takes a step back from the door. And another. And another. And another. Until a loud beep alerts him to the fact that he just walked into traffic. Raising his hands up in apology he gets back onto the sidewalk. His hands are shaking as he reaches for the handle. Taking a step inside he immediately smells tea. And quite a lot of it. He takes the stairs up and as he gets closer his heart begins to race faster. Even the staircase holds so many memories.

Walking inside their old apartment he shudders at the sight in front of him.


	10. Explode

SHERLOCK POV

Sherlock wakes up to a text from Molly.

He'll be at Baker Street. - M

On cue his heart begins to race and if he were one to be lead on by his emotions he is sure he would not have survived. Taking a breath he tries to calm his body down. Sluggishly he walks over to his meager belongings in this apartment his brother provided him. He needs to choose something to wear. He rarely cares about his attire, anyone could attest to that, wearing his hair disheveled and possibly wearing a nightgown. However, today is different. He needs to look presentable. A voice inside of him starts asking him the sort of questions he wants to avoid, such as 'why? why does he need to look presentable?'. In fear of feeling like an insane man he doesn't answer that voice. He finally decides on a semi-casual black and white suit with a maroon bow-tie. Maybe it's a bit much but somehow he doubts John will actually care. John. Though he is loathe to admit it, Mycroft was right in saying that it all comes back down to John. Feeling satisfied with his outward appearance he hails a cab and it is not long before he appears at Baker Street. He notices that Mrs. Hudson is out and can't help but be thankful for that. He was not in the mood for questions, his mind too busy concentrating on what to do when John comes. If he comes. He walks to the window and stands without moving, looking out for a familiar face. It's hours he's sure, but only feels like minutes, when a familiar face appears in his vision and he can't help the big gulp. Suddenly, unsure of himself he flitters about the apartment, trying to decide where to stand or sit. He can hear the slow, unsure footsteps in the staircase. It sounds like John hasn't been here since…well since that bloody fall. Finally, the shorter man appears in the doorway and the two men stand face to face.

JOHN POV

John swallows. He's having a nightmare again. He's either asleep or hallucinating, like usual. But it's different this time. Has he truly gone mad? The Sherlock he sees in front of him looks so…solid.

"Hello John." The tall man says. His hallucinations never talked, only his nightmares. Yet, somewhere in the back of his mind he was being told that this wasn't a hallucination or a nightmare.

"No." John shakes his head. He feels a sinking feeling in his stomach. Any second the apparition before him will disappear and he will be left feeling hollow. But the apparition isn't disappearing. He isn't even sure he wants it to.

"John?" The man before him takes a step forward. John, not expecting that takes a quick step backward.

"You're not here." John mutters. Sherlock frowns.

"You're just a hallucination, granted a strong one, but still. Or a nightmare I am not waking up from. Or…or…." John doesn't know where he's going with this. He also feels foolish for talking to himself and suddenly is reminded of the fact that he's supposed to be meeting Molly here.

"Molly…" He says without meaning.

"She's not coming. I asked her to get you here so that I could…talk to you."

The more John hears Sherlock speak the more he has a sinking feeling in his stomach. It's dread mixed with hope. A hope he wouldn't dare to have.

"John. You look a bit…green." Sherlock says and if John didn't know any better he would think it sounds like concern. It is in that instant that John realizes that the man in front of him is real.

SHERLOCK POV

Really, he should have seen it coming but he had been too concerned with John's greenish look that he had not noticed the fist flying towards him.

He gives out a rather unappealing sound as it connects with his jaw and he is sure he hears a cracking sound as well. He had stepped back a few steps so that he wouldn't fall but before he can right himself fully that same fist, John's fist, connects with his face yet again. He will have nasty bruise there tomorrow. He wonders whether he should let John punch him until he is unable or stop him. He can take the pain, after all all he's had in the past years is pain. He does also know John's stamina and fighting skills and decides to allow him one more punch before stopping him.

"John, stop."

Instead of a response, Sherlock is rewarded with a growl. John moves in for another punch but Sherlock is ready for it this time and manages to move away, even gracefully. He puts a coffee table between them in hopes that it will stop the shorter man from coming after him. He was wrong in thinking that of course.

"You…" John says, his nose flaring as he comes after Sherlock again.

"John, stop it."

"You…you…bastard! You utter, filthy bastard!"

"John, can you let me explain?" Sherlock says whilst moving more items in between their bodies.

"Explain? Explain?! Explain what exactly Sherlock?" John says.

Sherlock frowns. "Wait, I thought that would be obvious. Explain why I am here."

John growls in frustration and comes after Sherlock again.

"You are a complete wanker you know that? Did you have a laugh Sherlock?" John asks.

"Why would I laugh? I did not laugh. Do you think this is a laughing matter?" Sherlock asks.

"No I don't think this is a laughing matter you twit. But you're the almighty Sherlock, who knows. You got too bored. The cases we…you worked on were no longer seductive, no longer helping your addiction so you decided to mess with anyone that ever cared about you. Which mind you isn't too many people. So I applaud you."

"I did not mess around with anyone. But you are not letting me explain." Sherlock says trying to keep calm.

"Yes, deduce for us Mr. Holmes, please." John says sarcastically.

"Well…it's not really deducing…" Sherlock says.

"I'm out." John suddenly turns around to leave.

"No! Wait…please…" Sherlock says the last part quietly. He is not one to beg but he must admit he is a little bit desperate now. He knew John would react strongly…he just thought he would have at least had a chance to explain. John was full of surprises.

John shakes his head a turns slowly back around to face Sherlock, but he stands in the doorway, ready to leave any moment. He can see John's shoulders sag as if the fight is out of him.

"I didn't leave to mess around with anyone. I wouldn't do that."

"I wouldn't be surprised." There's a sting to John's words and Sherlock can't help but flinch. If only John understood how hard it had been for him to leave.

Sherlock takes a breath but before he can continue John steps in to say something.

"You…you made me watch." John says with a tremble in his voice.

Sherlock looks away. He knew John was referring to the fall. He wasn't proud of that moment. It had been the weak part of him that wanted one last chance to speak to John before he disappeared from the face of the earth.

"People said that you only thought about yourself. And let's be honest I believed it partially myself. But I thought there was some part of you that did care. But you made me watch you die. Because it was all a show. It was fake and you wanted me to one day know how well you can put on a show. Well congratulations Sherlock, you have outdone even yourself." John says and Sherlock can now see tears bubbling up in his eyes.

"I…I shouldn't have made you watch or listen." Sherlock says.

"Is that the best you can do? Probably the weakest apology if I've ever heard one."

"It was selfish of me."

"Well that's no surprise." John says. Sherlock was starting to get tired of all these remarks of Sherlock's selfishness when the only reason he jumped was for him.

"I…I didn't want to be alone." Sherlock says trying not to let any tears go in his eyes. He would not cry in front of John. For a fleeting second he sees John's face open in care but it's gone.

"I had to jump. I jumped for you John." Sherlock is getting desperate. He really wants John to understand.

John was about to say something but then he stops and frowns.

"I had to dismantle Moriarty's networks." Sherlock says.

"Is that supposed to mean something?"

"In order to do so…he had to believe me to be dead. Everyone he knew had to believe I was dead. He had threatened to kill you if I didn't jump. I…I…He had to believe I was dead."

There's a long silence. Sherlock watches as John takes it all in.

"I saw you jump. And if it was staged then you couldn't have done it all alone."

"No. I had…help."

"Who?" John asks.

"It doesn't matter." Sherlock waves it away.

"It matters!" John yells.

"Mycroft and Molly."

"Molly knew…And you didn't tell me. Was I so low on your short list of people that care?"

"No! You were at the top, which is why you couldn't know!" Sherlock says. He belatedly realizes that he let slip how much he actually cared for John but it was too late now.

"Why not?!" John yells back.

"Because it had to be believable, and if you knew they would come after you. I know they would." Sherlock yells back and he is sure a tear actually escaped his eye.

John shakes his head and before Sherlock can say anything John storms out. At the last minute he turns around and gives Sherlock an icy glare.

"I never want to see you again Sherlock. Never."

Sherlock watches as the man who was once his friend, maybe his only friend, storms across the street and catches a cab. Within moments he is out of his sight and possibly gone forever.


	11. Broken Madness

JOHN POV

John's shaky hand manages to unlock the door to his house but not long after he enters he grabs the first vase in his sight and smashes it against the floor. It feels good. It scares him to think that this is exactly what he wants to do with Sherlock's head, which is why he left Baker Street so quickly, as well as the fact that he was on the verge of breaking down right there before the tall man. He takes off his shoes, not wanting to make the house dirty from mud, and walks across the floor. Some of the glass manages to cut the soles of his feet and it feels good. It feels painful but it's a nice relief from what is going on in his heart. The problem is he doesn't even know what is going on in his heart. He was never good with feelings but now he is completely lost. He kicks the nearest coffee table and it topples over on its side. Tears are now streaming down his face and he's barely able to catch his breath. After throwing around some of the pillows and ripping them open, he falls to the ground his hands gripping the one of the pillows and lets the sobs out. He screams and cries and yet he doesn't even know why. One would think that he would be happy to see his best friend come back from the dead, so to speak. But this isn't just any person. This is a person who had played him. Who had let John drown in his despair for his dead friend and then appeared out of nowhere as if nothing had happened. He remembers being warned about Sherlock, how he's not really human. John always tried to defend him but no longer.

"Hello? Mary? John?" a voice comes from the front door but John ignores it.

The man that John heard is in fact Greg and he walks into the living room where John is currently on the floor surrounded by destruction.

"John! What happened? Did someone break in?" Greg asks but John can barely look at the man too distraught by the recent revelation. However, to alleviate the detective's stress of looking for a criminal John shakes his head.

"You look…oh…" Greg says and John has to look at the man at that point.

"You found out about Sherlock." Greg says it as a statement rather than a question. This somehow irks John, the fact that the detective inspector knew but John didn't.

"How long have you know?" John asks dangerously slowly.

"Only a couple of days. I would have told you but I told him he should do it himself."

"He wasn't even going to tell me was he…" John asks and somehow the fight is out of him, with a pounding headache replacing it.

It's confirmed with Greg's silence and the fact that he won't meet John's eyes.

"Well I am done with him." John says resolutely.

"Maybe there was a reason why he didn't want to tell you he's back…"

"What could possibly be holding him back?! Moriarty's network is gone! And he obviously told you, Molly already knew, so I don't—" John starts but is cut off by Greg.

"Molly knew? Since when?" Greg asks.

"Apparently, she helped Sherlock fake his death." John says bitterly suddenly jealous of her.

John notices Greg's wide eyes and realizes that Molly has been keeping this a secret from Greg, her boyfriend.

"I'm sorry." John says to his friend but he doesn't have too much more in him to comfort him.

"It's fine. Come on then mate, let's get you bandaged up and possibly some sleep."

"I'm fine." John says.

"No, you're not." Greg says as he helps John get up. John flinches at the pain in his feet. Now that the adrenaline is gone the pain in his feet is less comforting.

—

When John wakes up it's three in the morning. Looking over to his side he sees Mary sound asleep. She must have come after John fell asleep. After using the toilet he tries to get back to sleep but fails miserably as various scenes from Sherlock's death and the time after flick through his mind.

"I need fresh air." He says to the darkness and gets up to put clothes on.

The outside air is a nice chilling blast that wakes him up and momentarily distracts him from the past 24 hours. It's not long before he realizes where his feet are taking him. He appears to be walking down Baker Street and he can't help but groan at his traitorous feet. His feet that are probably bleeding all over the place in his shoes. The darkness and chilliness of the air gives him some sort of momentary resolve to go to 221b. He doesn't really care that it's three in the morning, especially since Sherlock's sleeping schedule is non-existent. He lets himself into the main door and walks up the stairs. That outside resolve crumbles momentarily when he stands in front of apartment door but he eventually walks in.

It's quite dark inside, not surprising with the time of night, though the curtains are open providing mellow lighting, mostly to see shadows of objects and the dust floating around. He walks in, first towards the yellow face drawn on the wall and he traces the outline. Then he makes his way to the Sherlock's violin, carelessly lying on the mantle's edge, and he traces its outline as well. Sherlock would never allow him to touch it, but to hell with Sherlock.

"I didn't think you'd come back." A voice says in the dark and John jumps immediately turning towards the very distinct but quiet voice of Sherlock. The tall man was sitting, if one could call it that since his shoulders and back were partially hunched, in his armchair with a ragged robe on and possibly pyjamas underneath, though it was hard to tell in the dark. He could see Sherlock's hands clasped together under his chin.

There's a long moment of silence before John responds.

"I wasn't going to." He responds.

"Then why did you?" Sherlock asks. John has absolutely not idea and is regretting it more and more by the minute. He could make up something but he doubts Sherlock lost any of his deducting skills so it was no use. Instead he gives a barely visible shrug.

Sherlock slowly untangles his tall body from within itself as he gets up from his chair to a standing position but doesn't make a move towards John, which the doctor believes is probably a good idea. He may have taken a lot of it out on his furniture but this feelings are not gone, and probably never will be.

"You told Greg before you told me." John says. It's a strange fact to mention but it still bothers John and he can't bare the silence anymore. Sherlock frowns at him not comprehending and John isn't too surprised. Instead, he gives Sherlock some time to figure out what he is talking about.

"You mean that I'm not dead." Sherlock says and John flinches. It's such a strange situation.

John nods.

"I…"

"You weren't going to tell me were you?" John says matter-of-factly. He already knows the answer, he can't feel it.

"Of course I was." Sherlock says.

"Stop it Sherlock. Stop it. This is not a game. Not everything is a game Sherlock! Don't lie to me! Not about this. Not about this. You weren't going to tell me. Just admit it." John says, the previous anger rising within him again.

"I have found that people don't like the truth." Sherlock says.

"No, maybe they don't but I'm asking for it."

"I wasn't going to tell you." Sherlock says and something within John just disappears. He puts on a cold face because he isn't sure if he can stand anymore pain, not from this man.

"Why?" It's a stupid question to ask, he knows that, but he can't help it.

"It would have been better." Sherlock says.

"Better? Better? How could you say that? How could that have possibly been better?!" John starts yelling again and he can feel tears pushing against his eyes so he pushes them back.

"John…" Sherlock says so quietly and so gently that John can barely recognize him. His eyes have now gotten used to the darkness so he can see the man's face. And he doesn't expect to see pain there. He doesn't. He knows Sherlock, and he knows the man is as good at masking his feelings as he is at putting fake ones on, but somehow he is sure that isn't fake.

"Tell me." John says resolutely and he can tell Sherlock sees that.

"I've been dead for two years in your eyes and you have moved on. Why come back and make things complicated? You've moved on so you don't need me. It would have been better if you didn't know about me being alive." Sherlock says with sadness and John frowns.

"How could you say that? I know you have trouble understanding humans but moved on? Hardly. I visited your grave nearly everyday Sherlock. I saw you in the shadows of alleys. You were a constant in my nightmares, falling all over again. I would not call that moving on!" John's voice rises and he wants to punch Sherlock but this more to make him see sense.

Sherlock's mouth opens and clothes a few times.

"But I've watched you. You have moved on. You live in a house, you have a pregnant wife, and a stable job. Basically, all the things you've always wanted." Sherlock says with a frown as if John was another case he didn't fully understand.

"I don't live at Baker Street because it was too painful, too many memories of you. And yes, I have a pregnant wife but that has nothing to do with you. And as for the job, in case you haven't noticed in this world we need a job to keep living." John says raising his hands in frustration and nearly on the verge of laughing at the absurdity of this situation.

There's more silence.

"Do you love her?" Sherlock asks out of the blue and John raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Um…y-yeah…of course…" John says frowning in suspicion because questions made by Sherlock aren't just question they lead to something bigger so he waits for Sherlock to continue but he doesn't.

"Well, you should probably go. Wouldn't want her wondering where you are in the morning plus you have to go to work in a few hours. And I need sleep." Sherlock says yawning.

"Sherlock, that was a fake yawn. Besides, you haven't answered my question." John says.

"What question?"

"Why did you tell Greg before me? Other than the fact that you were never going to tell me. Then why tell him if it was likely he would then tell me?" John asks.

"I needed a case to work on." Sherlock says as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And John laughs. And keeps on laughing. He can't stop. It's nearing hysteria he's sure.

"I don't see what's funny." Sherlock says a bit miffed by the situation.

"Neither do I Sherlock, neither do I." John says and leaves.


	12. You Win

Sherlock POV

Sherlock doesn't sleep after John leaves at four in the morning. Instead he sits in the chair organizing all that has happened since he came back. He doesn't notice a woman has entered the apartment until she clears her throat.

"Hm?" He looks up.

"Hello Sherlock." The woman says. He narrows his eyes.

"Do I know you? I feel like I know you. Maybe I do. But sometimes I delete unimportant people to make space for more important information. Are you here for a case? Please say you are. But make it interesting. I don't do boring cases." Sherlock goes on and stands up to walk over and look out the window.

"I'm not here for a case, not really." The woman says.

"Boring. Next!" He yells out but the woman doesn't leave. He looks her over, up and down, but nothing particular stands out.

"You don't look like my brother's usual messengers but who knows, even my brother can be surprising sometimes." Sherlock says going to the kitchen to pick up the now cold tea sitting on the table.

"My name is Mary."

"Boring."

"I think it's actually quite lovely."

"Well you're delusional." Sherlock replies.

"I doubt it. I'm here about John." Mary says and Sherlock stops in his tracks slowly turning towards her.

"John." He says slowly.

"Yes, John. You know the man that believed you were dead when in fact you weren't. The man that shed tears for you. The man that went through a lot of pain because of you. That John." Mary says pointedly.

"Oh, I thought you were talking about the other one." Sherlock waves his hands dismissively but really he wants to know exactly what this woman wants. He looks back at her and comes close to her. He first sniffs her hair and then looks at her coat.

"You're the pregnant wife." Sherlock says.

"Girlfriend, though I'd like to say wife. I must admit, it took you a while to figure out who I was." Mary smiles cheekily.

"Well I don't have time for trivia." Sherlock dismisses her again.

"Sherlock. John told me you were scattered but not to this extent. I am here about John. Aren't you the least bit curious?" Mary says.

"I don't get curious. I know things." Sherlock replies though in fact he is curious as to why she is here at Baker Street without John.

"I came to say that when the day comes, whether it's tomorrow or in years, I want you to promise me that you will take care of him." Mary says and Sherlock frowns.

"Of whom?" he asks and Mary just rolls her eyes.

"Of John." she replies.

"Why would I need to take care of him? He's a perfectly capable grown man. Though not always observant I would say he can manage in the world. He's managed until now." Sherlock says and looks to the wall where a case he dropped lures him back in.

"Because he is your friend. Because I know how much he means to you and how much you mean to him. Because you win. John may not know it, you may not know it, and maybe in this case I'm the most observant one. But I know when I've been defeated. And I only want John to be happy, so you win. But only when John decides it. And only if you promise me that you will take care of him." Mary says her eyes looking dangerous. There's something about her that Sherlock can't quite pinpoint and it's frankly quite annoying because he hates not knowing.

"What do I win?" Sherlock asks.

"Seriously? That's what you got from that? Just promise you will take care of him." Mary asks. Sherlock, unsure as to what is going on, just nods. He knows he doesn't have to promise that in order to actually do it and he has a feeling Mary knows that. Before he can say anything else Mary leaves the apartment and Sherlock is left alone again, to ponder John, his girlfriend, and the fact that he desperately needs a case.


	13. Two Faces

JOHN POV

"Hello Mrs. Hudson" John says as he walks through the door. She walks over to him and gives him a hug.

"You two will be fine." She says and smiles.

He wants to comment that it's not that easy but he knows Mrs. Hudson won't really absorb that information. Instead, he walks up the stairs. Walking through the door he sees Sherlock standing in front of the window. He looks like he is deep in thought and does not want to disturb him, so he walks over to the couch where he left his scarf two nights ago. He's about to leave when Sherlock's voice stops him.

"I wasn't sure what to do with that. So I just left it there." Sherlock says pointing to the scarf.

John is about to reply when his phone rings. It's Mary. It's a strange time to call but he picks it up. He puts the phone farther from his ears immediately as all he can hear is a lot of yelling on Mary's side.

"I have to go." John says and turns to leave.

"What is it?" Sherlock asks.

"Mary's in labour."

Sherlock follows John outside and gets into the cab that John called. Apparently, a friend was taking Mary to the hospital where they would meet up.

"John, you need to breathe." Sherlock says.

"Hm?" John looks over at him.

"I've been counting how many times you have taken a breath in the past three minutes and it's not enough. You will pass out. Mary will need you in full health." Sherlock says and John nods.

The two of them run over to where Mary is.

"Sherlock? What are you doing here? Aaaaaah!" Mary asks in between yells.

"Mary? You're doing great." John says soothingly, or tries to.

"I'll be…out there." Sherlock points outside and leaves. John doesn't really pay attention because he's about to become a father.

It isn't long before they hear their daughter's first cries and a tear escapes John's eye.

"She's beautiful." John says in astonishment.

"Of course she is, she's ours. Go get Sherlock." Mary states.

"Sherlock? Why?" John asks in confusion.

"Well he came here with you did he not?" Mary asks.

"He did? Right…" John goes out through the door but there's no one there.

"Hi, did you, by any chance, see a tall man with dark curly hair and a long coat?" John actually wasn't sure whether he was wearing that coat but he wouldn't be surprised. The nurse points him to the doors that lead outside.

John walks out and sees the man standing under the roof as the rain falls. There's a cigarette in his hand.

"You're smoking again." John can't help but remark.

"Yes, well…" Sherlock doesn't elaborate.

"We will have a talk about that. But not now. Come up, I'm a father." John says. Sherlock smiles lightly at John and follows him.

The two of them look through the window of the room and John walks in, but Sherlock doesn't follow. John waves him in with a reassuring smile as if he were the one in need of reassurance.

"Congratulations Mary and John. You are now parents. You will have zero sleep. You will constantly hear a child cry and scream. Mostly, I'm not sure why anyone would want that but apparently it's a trend." Sherlock states.

"Sherlock!" John says sternly but smiles because he missed his friend.

—

SHERLOCK POV

Mary is still in the hospital with Rosamund but has managed to persuade John to go home. Sherlock sneaks into the hospital to find out more about Mary because something isn't adding up. He's about to enter Mary's room but he hears voices coming from there so he hides behind a panel near the door.

"The boss is getting impatient R. You have a list that you haven't followed up on, not fully anyways and he does not like quitters. If you don't deal with it I will have to deal with you." The man in the room says and Sherlock sees him point his gun at Mary for a moment before putting it away.

"I will deal with it Jareg." Mary replies her voice icy and made of steel.

"Let's hope for both our sakes that's true." the man says and then climbs out of the window.

Sherlock runs outside as fast as he can but is too late to see the man, Jareg. He doesn't return to see Mary. Instead he goes to his flat to do some digging.


	14. Revelation

SHERLOCK POV

He knocks on Mary's hospital room.

"Come in!" Mary says.

"Sherlock?" she says surprised.

"Is John here?"

"No, sorry. You missed him. I sent him to work. He wouldn't leave but, well, we do need the money after all."

"I'm actually not here for John. I'm here for you." he says.

"M-me?" she says and Sherlock can hear the faint stutter.

"Does John know?" Sherlock asks.

"Does he know what?" Mary asks.

"Does he know who you are?"

"You mean a nurse? I would hope so, we work at the same clinic." She says nervously.

"You're not a nurse. Well, maybe you are. But you aren't just a nurse. More like an assassin-for-hire?" Sherlock says and watches as Mary's lips purse together.

The two of them stare at each other, both calculating.

"Did you tell John?" Mary asks resigned.

"No."

"It's an old life." She says.

"Hardly. You were threatened just recently by a man named Jareg. Unless you count that as old life."

"It was an old life. But…sometimes an old life can catch up to you."

"What did you do?"

"Gave up that life. When you give up a life like that, well, no one appreciates you being alive, let's just say."

"Why didn't you tell John?"

"He has enough going in his life. And…no one knows."

"You should tell him."

"I don't think that's a good idea…"

"Trust me. Not telling him things yields bad results." Sherlock says sadly.

She just nods Sherlock leaves to do more digging on the man called Jareg.

JOHN POV

John's phone rings.

"Mary? Is everything alright? Is Rosie alright?" John asks.

"Yes, yes, don't worry. Everything's fine. I was just wondering when you'd be getting to the hospital?"

"I should be there in 30 minutes."

"Could you make a pit stop and get Sherlock?"

"Mary if this is some way to get Sherlock and I to be on better terms this isn't the way. Look Sherlock and I will deal things okay? Let's just concentrate on us right now." John says. In his opinion Sherlock and him would never be alright but he didn't want to worry Mary.

"This isn't some trick John. Just pick him okay? I'll explain more later." Mary says and hangs up.

SHERLOCK POV

Sherlock is throwing a rock at the yellow face on the wall when there's a knock at the door.

"I'm fine Mrs. Hudson." he yells at the door and continues his throwing. The door opens and in comes John, not Mrs. Hudson.

"John? What are you doing here?"

"Are you throwing rocks at the wall?" John asks. The moment he asks that Sherlock hides the rocks behind his back. John just shakes his head.

"You are coming to the hospital."

"Why?" Sherlock asks and doesn't budge as the smaller man tries to pull him towards the door.

"Because Mary said so. Now come on." John says and keeps pulling.

"John. I'm not wearing anything." Sherlock points out.

"What?" John looks at the tall man, suddenly not remembering whether he is or isn't wearing anything. Thankfully he is wearing something but probably not good enough to be seen outside.

"I will come to the hospital just let me change." Sherlock says and John let's go of him.

JOHN POV

The two men stand in Mary's room. John is cradling Rosie in his arms doing baby noises as she gurgles and Sherlock is pacing. John can't really figure out why but is too busy to think about it.

"I need to tell you something John." Mary begins and John not fully registering the words just looks up and nods, then looks back down at his daughter. He does however notice the moment Sherlock stops pacing.

"You alright Sherlock?"

"Hm? Yes, of course."

"You stopped pacing."

"Oh."

SHERLOCK POV

"Sherlock, how about you hold Rosie for a little bit."

"Sherlock? Hold Rosie?" John laughs.

"I don't know if that's a good idea." Sherlock says.

"Come on. It's okay." Mary says.

"Babies are messy." Sherlock says and he knows that is probably the worst excuse.

"Yes, but I'm not asking you to change her diaper. Just hold her, rock her, that's it."

Finally, the child is in his hands and he just stands there. He tries to remember any videos or instances where he saw people holding babies and tries to copy them.

"You see? You've got this." Mary smiles.

Sherlock is acutely aware of John's jaw hanging to the ground but decides not to comment on it.

JOHN POV

John tries to stop staring at Sherlock but he can't. His long curls go down and up from Rosie's face making her giggle. The uncertainty in the tall man's face is so different from what he's used to. Even the image of Sherlock interacting with a child is remarkable. There's a growing warm feeling inside his chest at the view in front of him but he's pulled out when he hears Mary's serious voice.

"There's something you need to know John." Mary says and John comes close to her.

"I…I have a past life that I haven't been…so truthful about." She says and John frowns.

"What do you mean?" John asks.

"I…the job I had was…different than…well…I was an assassin-for-hire you could say." Mary finally says.

John didn't realize his jaw could go further down than after seeing Sherlock with Rosie but apparently it could.

"You…no…you were a nurse at that hospital…you…"

"I wasn't."

"You made that up? You made it all up? What is true? Who are you Mary? Damn it, is that even your name, hm? I…how could you do this to me after…after Sherlock? After all that happened?" John goes from disbelief to anger.

"John—" Sherlock begins but John turns towards him.

"Don't you dare say a word. Don't you dare. You have no right to say anything." John gives Sherlock a dark glare and it manages to quiet Sherlock.

"John, I didn't want to tell you precisely because of what happened with Sherlock. Your world was one of chaos. You needed stability and I desperately wanted to be that for you. And…I was running away from that world. It was no longer my world but one can never run far away enough." Mary says and takes John's hand in hers but it burns him. He lets go immediately and storms out of the room.


	15. Save Me

SHERLOCK POV

It's only been a few days since that 'incident' at the hospital when John found out about Mary but he hasn't seen either one of them. He's sure John never wants to see him again, even though it's not his fault that Mary hid her identity from him and he's still unsure about who Mary really is. But since he's got too much time on his hands he decides to go see Mary or R as Jareg had called her.

When he opens the door to Mary's hospital room she isn't there.

"Nurse" Sherlock the nearby nurse.

"Yes?"

"Mary Morstan?" he asks and the nurse points him to her room.

"She isn't there."

"Are you sure?" the nurse asks and the two of them go and see.

"That's strange…"

Within ten minutes it is decided that Mary has disappeared from the hospital.

"What about Rosie?" Sherlock asks.

"I'm sorry?"

"Rosamund. The baby."

"Let me check…Rosie is safe and sound."

As soon as Sherlock hears that he runs out of the hospital and towards the Watson house.

JOHN POV

John is finishing up his coffee when someone barges into his house violently. His hand automatically goes towards a drawer with a gun but when he realizes it's Sherlock he lets go.

"What are you doing here Sherlock?" John asks not looking at the man.

"Mary is gone." Sherlock says and John's head immediately pops up.

"What?"

"Mary is gone from the hospital. Disappeared."

"This isn't funny Sherlock." John says but there's an edge to his voice.

"I'm being serious John! She's gone."

"Rosie?"

"She's safe. I checked." Sherlock says.

"You did?" John asks incredulously.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Sherlock frowns.

"It's just…nevermind. We have to find Mary."

SHERLOCK POV

The two of them venture back to Baker Street and start researching possibilities of where Mary may have gone or who might have taken her.

"A man named Jareg threatened her." Sherlock says.

"How do you even know that? You know what, nevermind. I don't want to know." John says.

Sherlock finds a trace of Jareg that leads to a warehouse. Looking at his friend beside him he realizes he can't let John get hurt. There could be one but there could also be hundreds in that warehouse ready to torture or kill Mary. There's only one thing to do.

"John, I'll be right back. Let me see if I can find something from my homeless network. You keep researching." Sherlock says and John just nods. With a last glance at his friend he dashes out of the flat with a gun in his pocket and before long he finds himself at the rusty warehouse.

Unsurprisingly it's dark inside and the smell of old metal makes him sick as it reminds him of his days of torture.

"I'm doing this for John." He whispers to himself and keeps walking deeper and deeper inside. It's not long before he hears a voice and he quickly hides himself behind a panel. It sounds like one man and a muffled voice of…of a woman. Taking a peak towards the sound of the voices he recognizes the blonde hair. Throwing a rock at one of the metal canisters on the other side of the room the man, Jareg, turns his head towards the sound. Sherlock tiptoes towards the back of Mary and does his best to untie her hands and mouth.

"Sherlock. What are you doing here?" Mary whispers forcefully.

"Not now." Sherlock whispers back. They're about to get out when Jareg turns back towards them. Realizing the situation they are in and how John would feel if anything happened to Mary he looks her in the eyes.

"Run." He says to her. She glances at him but he just nods. And she runs.

"Who are you?" Jareg asks.

JOHN POV

Mary bursts into the flat scaring John nearly half to death.

"Mary!" He gets up and hugs her. They stand like that for an eternity hugging each other as if life depended on it.

"I thought you were dead!" He says.

"I thought I was too…John, we have to help him." Mary says.

"Help who?" he frowns.

"Sherlock."

"Sherlock? What do you mean? He was just here." John says.

"He's the one who saved me John. He saved me from the assassin trying to torture me and kill me. But only I was able to get out." Mary says.

"No. This isn't happening. Not again." John says and puts his gun in the back of his jeans.

"I will be back."

"I'm coming with you." Mary says resolutely.

"Mary."

"I'm coming with you." She repeats and John knows there's no arguing with her on that.

They silently approach the pair, Jareg and Sherlock. John flinches as the man punches Sherlock in the face. There's blood all over Sherlock's shirt and face, John can barely recognize his face anymore. He's surprised his friend is still conscious.

"Stop it!" John storms out and Jareg turns around to look at him. The assassin looks like he's about to shoot him but before John can react Mary is in front of him and the shot goes through her.

"No!" John yells and he can hear an echo of SHerlock's voice in the background. He can faintly hear a fight going on between Sherlock and Jareg but all John can concentrate on is Mary on the ground, her shirt bloodied.

"Mary! Mary? Can you hear me? Mary, talk to me!" John says frantically.

"I…I can hear you John." Mary whispers.

"You can't…don't do this to me Mary. Don't do this. Not after all that's happened."

"You've got him back now." She whispers.

"No, that's different. I need you Mary, don't you know that? I love you. I can't lose you. You grounded me."

"I'll always be with you John, you know that."

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you before. I'm so sorry." John says his face in Mary's neck.

"Oh John, you had every right. You will be fine. Take care of Rosie, you understand? You have to be strong. Make up with Sherlock, you'll need him."

"I don't want to need him!" John yells and she smiles.

"I know. But you do. You need each other. I love you so so much my dearest John." She says and her eyes begin to close. Before they do she hands him a small little key.

"Mary, no, don't, Mary, please!" John yells out in anguish as Mary's breathing stops. It feels like an eternity but it's the moments when he realizes it's too quiet that John decides to look up.

Two men are lying on the ground not moving.


	16. Crumbling Heart

JOHN POV

"Sherlock?" John yells out towards one of the figures on the ground.

When there's no response he puts the key Mary handed him in his pocket, gets up and walks over to what he assumes is Sherlock. He kneels beside the man and places two fingers on his neck to check his pulse. It's only then that John can breathe a small sigh of relief. His friend isn't dead.

"Sherlock, can you hear me?" John asks but there's nothing. There's only one thing to do now.

John places his hands on top of Sherlock's heart and starts pumping three times, then he breathes into Sherlock. He repeats this two more times until Sherlock takes in a deep breath.

"What? John? What?" Sherlock says but then he falls into unconsciousness again.

With a shaky, bloodied hand John dials Greg's number.

It feels like forever but Greg eventually gets to the warehouse.

"John! What the hell happened here?"

John looks up at his friend and immediately Greg can see that John is in pain.

"He's alive but unconscious. We have to get him to a hospital. I didn't want to call 999 because…well…I don't know how to explain any of this, I honestly don't."

"Alright, let's get Mary and Sherlock in the car. The hospital isn't far." Greg assumes the calm role but at the mention of Mary's name John's head bows and a tear slips.

"She's…she's gone Greg."

"What?"

"Mary. She saved my life. And now she's gone!" John yells out to the universe.

"Oh John. There will be time to process all that. We have to get out of here before people notice."

John sits by Sherlock's bed but he doesn't stir. He keeps reaching into his pockets to play with the key but doesn't let himself wonder what it is. In fact, he doesn't let himself think about Mary. He can't. He's sure that if he would his heart would crumble on the spot. His heart had crumbled once, after Sherlock's death, and only Mary was able to glue some of the pieces back together. Who will pick up the pieces after Mary? If Sherlock doesn't make, he is sure that he might as well join them in the afterlife. The only thing keeping him hanging on is Rosie. He can't be the nonexistent father. He looks down into his arms where he is holding his precious daughter and immediately breaks down in tears. All he can see in her face is Mary. Mary, Mary, Mary. The woman who was to become his wife. John places his daughter into the crib and stands up.

"Sherlock. You have no right to die. Not again, do you hear me? I can't go through that again. I will never forgive you if you die again. I haven't decided if I have forgive you for the first time but I surely won't if you die this time. Mary is gone and I need you. It's crazy. Of all the people to need in this situation one wouldn't think of Sherlock Holmes but that's just it. I'm crazy. You gave me what I needed in life. Adventure. Risk. And…I just…you're my…you're my friend. I know that might mean nothing to you but to me it means a lot. So please…just please…don't leave me again. Unlike you I am willing to beg." By now John is pacing and tears are streaming down his face. It seems the waterfall will never end.

John looks towards the bed as he hears his friend mutter. Unfortunately John can't recognize the words. He walks over, sits down and takes Sherlock's hand in his.

SHERLOCK POV

There'a clang of metal somewhere to his right. Or maybe it's his left. He feels like he's floating. But instead of floating into the sky, he's floating into the ground. Far in the distance there's a whisper of his name. The voice seems familiar but too distant to recognize at present. Slowly the darkness that has been drawing near for quite a while envelops him.

Sherlock points a gun at Mary's chest and shoots. The shot reverberates throughout the whole room but surprisingly Mary smiles at him.

"Nooo!" John yells out beside him.

Grabbing a gun, John points the gun at Sherlock's skull.

"I've been wanting to do this for so long." John says suddenly really calm.

"I know. And I want you to. I'm so sorry John. I deserve to die." Sherlock replies. John shoots but not his head. Instead he shoots into his stomach, watching Sherlock as he slowly and painfully dies.

Every time Sherlock finally dies he's back where he started: pointing a gun at Mary.

The next time he 'dies' he's looking straight into John's eyes.


	17. Overwhelming

JOHN POV

John can't stand being in the hospital anymore. He decides to take the key to the bank and see if it fits. Apparently it does. With shaky hands he opens the box in front of him. He honestly has no idea what to expect, not when he doesn't fully know who Mary is. There's a neatly folded piece of paper inside, that's it. Taking it out he heads back to the hospital because he can't stand being at home, the empty home. He sits down in Sherlock's hospital room and checks on the crib that has Rosie in it. She's fast asleep. With shaky fingers he opens the paper and realizes it's a letter. From Mary.

Dearest John,

If you are reading this it means I have left you because my past caught up to me. You must hate me and it isn't unwarranted. After I left the 'business' I never expected to fall in love. But I did. I desperately wanted to tell you about me but I couldn't. Partly because I was afraid that you would run away from me and partly because you were so broken after Sherlock's death that I couldn't do that to you. I know you're probably thinking, what does this have to do with Sherlock. But John, with you, everything has to do with Sherlock. And I came to accept that. I had written a letter previously but then I found out that Sherlock was alive so I re-wrote it. I admit, I was jealous that he was alive. I know that's selfish. But if indeed you are reading this I am glad he is because you are hurting and someone has to be there for you. You mean more to him than you think. He won't say it but in his own unique way he shows it but I don't think you see that. Make up with him. You're going to need him. And he needs you, whether he knows it or not. He's as broken as you are. Take care of our beautiful daughter and tell her I love her.

I will never stop loving you John,

Mary "Rosamund" Morstan soon-to-be Watson

By the end of the letter John is crying fully. He can't stop the tears and he isn't sure he wants to. It gives him something to do. He gets up and kicks a nearby table. It gives him momentary relief but not for long.

There's a groan from the bed.

"John?" croaks Sherlock his eyes barely open.

John closes his eyes. Sherlock made it. Mary didn't. Sherlock made it. Mary didn't. Sherlock made it. Mary didn't. He doesn't know how to feel and is too afraid to look at his friend.

Instead of confronting Sherlock John turns to the door and leaves. It's cowardly but his heart is beating too fast and there's only so much he can take.

It's been a week and John knows Sherlock has been released. He knows he can't hide from Sherlock forever so he heads over to Baker Street.

Entering into his old flat he isn't prepared for the sight. He thought he would be prepared to see anything when it came to Sherlock but he isn't prepared for this.

Sherlock is sitting in his usual chair with a variety of objects on the small table beside him, ranging from: a handgun to syringes to knives to pills. All of which make bells go off in John's head and his breathing starts because Sherlock isn't moving, not even when John walked in.

"What are you doing?!" John asks his voice taking on a high pitch. Sherlock slowly looks up and sees his friend but doesn't answer.

John walks forward and takes all the objects off the table putting them in a nearby bag that he plans on taking far away from Baker Street.

"Do you think you could do that to me?" John asks trying to keep the anger from his voice but he fails.

"It's better that way. That way I won't hurt you anymore." Sherlock says.

"Did you even think that going through with it would hurt me?!" John asks but shakes his head because he knows the answer to that one. It never crossed Sherlock's mind.

"It's my fault she's gone. It's my fault you're in pain." Sherlock says.

"It's not your fault that she's gone Sherlock. But I won't deny the second part. Because you did hurt me." John says the anger going out of him.

"No you don't understand John! Every time I close my eyes the same images pass through my mind! My gun is pointed at Mary, I shoot, you scream, take the gun and point it at my skull. You say you've been wanting to do it for so long. I deserve to die John. I do. You shoot me in the stomach. And then I wake up and it repeats. Sometimes I shoot you and there's nothing I can do. Nothing. Nothing John. I can't bring her back John. I can't bring her back. If I could trade places with her I would. But I can't!" Sherlock yells the last bit tears falling down. John's eyes are wide and he doesn't know how to react. He doesn't know how to feel. Sherlock, the man without feelings, blames himself for Mary's death.

Sherlock stands up and the bathrobe slips a little bit revealing a part of his left shoulder blade. John frowns.

"Stop. Wait." John says and Sherlock does but doesn't look at him.

John gently pushes the bathrobe lower and which reveals scars. His breathing gets faster. He pulls the whole bathrobe down. Sherlock's back is filled with so many long and short but deep scars as well as old bullet-holes. Sherlock doesn't move. John realizes his friend froze on the spot. He reaches out to gently trace one of the small scars but Sherlock flinches pulling the robe back on.

"I won't do anything. Not until you want me to." Sherlock vaguely waves over to the now-empty table.

"I will never want you to kill yourself Sherlock!" John yells.

John watches as Sherlock goes to his room and closes the door.

His mind is reeling from the gun, syringes, pills, and knives as well as the scars on Sherlock's back. He feels like he's suffocating from the pain of losing Mary and from the pain Sherlock is going through. He walks through the flat and searches for other potential damaging objects before he runs out of the flat. He runs as fast as he can to his house and lets the tears fall.

It's all too overwhelming.


	18. Protect

SHERLOCK POV

The tip of an umbrella taps in a steady rhythm against the ground. Sherlock is determined not to grind his teeth but is finding it hard not to.

"Brother. Is it true, what my sources say?" Mycroft asks slowly in a disinterested tone. He isn't fooling anyone. Sherlock is perfectly aware that Mycroft does indeed have a heart that cares, in a twisted manner, about his younger brother.

"It would probably depend on what your sources say." Sherlock mutters because he doesn't like where this conversation is going.

Mycroft sighs and the tapping stills.

"You attempted to take your life." Mycroft says blatantly.

"I suppose so." Sherlock replies not even attempting to find out how Mycroft knows that. Did John tell him?

"If it weren't for Mr. Watson—" Mycroft begins.

"If it weren't for Doctor Watson, I might not have been in the situation to begin with." Sherlock says deliberately emphasizing John's title.

Mycroft's eyebrow rises much higher than it should.

"It all comes back to John. You said it yourself." Sherlock says rolling his eyes as if he were talking to a little child.

"Sherlock. That is how the world works. Haven't you figured that out yet? There are such things as consequences." It's Mycroft's turn to roll his eyes.

"Was there anything else, brother?" Sherlock asks.

"I will be keeping closer eye on you. And your package is here. It's your last one so use it wisely. I'm cutting you off." Mycroft says and heads out the door.

Sherlock walks over to the box filled with his favourite drugs, one might say.

JOHN POV

John, against his better judgment, decides to check on Sherlock.

Sherlock is working on some experiment in his home-lab in the kitchen. The sight takes John to the old days. The so-called simple days. Of course nothing was ever simple with that man.

"John! There's a robbery I am working on so I will be quite busy but I have a number for a really good babysitter if you ever needed one." Sherlock says. John takes in his appearance and if his heart wasn't telling him otherwise he would have thought the past couple of weeks had not happened. He was wearing suit pants, a blue dress shirt and his hair was tamed. John couldn't help but gape.

"I know that the next few months will be difficult but if you need help I will do my best." Sherlock says. John doesn't bother telling Sherlock that the next few months won't be the only difficult ones. Try next years, maybe even life.

"What is that?" John points to Sherlock's arm.

"Hm?" Sherlock hums but hides his arm out of John's view.

The doctor stomps over to the kitchen and forcefully pulls Sherlock's arm to himself.

"First the cigarette at the hospital, now patches. And these? These are what exactly Sherlock?" John points to small spots where needles had definitely made their way before. They were quite new.

Sherlock doesn't reply.

"And the scars on your body? What are those?" John asks.

"Occupational hazard." Sherlock replies simply and continues tinkering with his experiment tools.

"What happened to you in the time that you were…dead?" Both of them wince as John calls Sherlock 'dead'.

"Nothing that I couldn't handle." Sherlock replies not looking at John.

"That's not what I asked." John stands and waits.

"Why does it matter John? There's new case, gotta hurry." Sherlock is about to leave but John's hand on Sherlock's chest stops him.

"You aren't going anywhere until you tell me."

Sherlock sighs.

"I told you. I had to dismantle Moriarty's network. That meant dealing with a lot of…aggressive people."

"You could have sent a bloody army and instead you go out there yourself? Are you still that high and mighty Sherlock? You could have died! Proper died!" John yells arms in the air in disbelief.

"And you're using." John says.

Sherlock doesn't reply.

"How are you getting your supply?"

"Are you asking so that you can cut me off? It doesn't matter, that was my last supply, I already got cut off." Sherlock mutters annoyed.

John frowns and then realization dawns on him.

"Your brother is your bloody supplier? Your brother?" John asks.

Sherlock smiles.

John hangs his head.

"I can't do this Sherlock. I…I just can't. I thought I could but I can't. For so long I had wished that somehow you would be alive. But I'm an only father Sherlock. I have a daughter that I have to take care of. I can't take care of you like I used to, that's a 24 hour job. I have to protect her." John says.

Sherlock frowns.

"Protect her?" He asks confused.

John looks away.

"Protect her…from you…" John says and closes his eyes.

"John, wait…" Sherlock begins but John is already on his way out, his heart heavy in his chest.


	19. The J-Word

SHERLOCK POV

Of course John would want to keep away from him. Sherlock isn't people material and now he is broken. He is a bad influence. It's probably better this way. Sherlock can concentrate on his work and John can…recover and be a good father.

Weeks go by and Sherlock realizes that taking John off his mind might be harder than he expected. He thought that putting himself back to work would do the trick, but neither work nor drugs could fully take him away from the dark feelings lurking inside him. He thinks back to the days when John lived at Baker Street and what he did. He went on a lot of dates. Maybe he can try that.

It doesn't take long before he finds a woman willing to go on a date with him. It's a very boring date but he suffers through hoping that it gets better. He never goes on a date with her again. His next, as Mycroft puts it 'conquest', is a policeman. Greg isn't particularly happy about Sherlock dating someone from his team and eventually neither is Sherlock. The man is equally as boring as the previous woman. And so the cycle continues. He goes on dates with boring people, sometimes they stay the night, sometimes they don't, but nothing lasts. His mind is still filled with John.

JOHN POV

Rosie is growing so quickly. Well, it's only been a few weeks since her birth but she is growing. Mrs. Hudson helps him out sometimes on the condition that she doesn't talk about Sherlock. She manages, barely, to keep her word. She can be sly by speaking in hypotheticals and not using names. Molly and Greg also help out where they can. He is consumed by Rosie and by work until one day when he is walking past one of the pubs he used to frequent back in his days at Baker Street. What he sees makes him stop completely.

There, by a bar stool stands Sherlock with one of his fancy, tight suits. He's talking to a beautiful woman. She smiles. Sherlock smiles. And his smile seems genuine. John knows he should probably just keep walking but then Sherlock's hand gently caresses the woman's lower back. John's stomach and chest tighten, and he forces himself to keep walking. He looks back to his time with Sherlock and he doesn't remember Sherlock dating. Maybe he had and John didn't notice. But John was sure he would antagonize every human being he came into contact with. Sherlock is dating. No, this is good. This means that John doesn't have to feel guilty for leaving Sherlock alone in the flat with his toys. This means Sherlock will find someone whom he cares about. This means he will avoid drugs. This means…this means Sherlock can replace John. This is good. This is a good thing. But no matter how many times John says that to himself he can't believe it and his chest tightens even more.

John keeps throwing himself into his work and into being a father but somehow Sherlock seems to be everywhere. But there's always someone at his side, be it a beautiful woman or a handsome man, there's always someone there. Sherlock is flirting and appears to be happy. John knows he should be happy about this but he can't quite bring himself to be.

John didn't think he'd ever be making a trip back to Baker Street but Mycroft isn't one to be ignored. According to Mycroft, Sherlock is grieving. John tried to explain to him that Sherlock was finally becoming human by having a relationship but Mycroft would have none of it. So there he is, yet again, standing in front of those cursed doors with the 221B barely holding on. He isn't quite sure what Mycroft expects of him.

John doesn't bother knocking and slowly enters but perhaps he should have reconsidered. There in front of him stands a Sherlock with only his undergarments on and a coffee in hand, as well as a man and woman equally undressed. John turns around facing the entryway.

"John?" Sherlock asks. John nods unsure if he can speak. He can't quite get the nearly-nude image of Sherlock out of his head.

Clearing his throat, John begins. "It appears you are fine so I will be on my way."

"Hold on. Why did you come?" Sherlock asks.

"I am having a hard time talking to a naked man." John says.

"Why?" Sherlock replies and John can practically feel the frown. At John's lack of a response Sherlock covers himself up, barely, with his bathrobe.

John turns to look at his friend. Despite the bathrobe, a lot of skin is showing and with this new image in John's head he can't quite look at Sherlock normally. Desperate to hide his blushing face he starts pacing.

"Your brother sent me here to check up on you. Why can't he get his goons to do his work?" John mutters angrily. He knows he's overreacting but he needs to vent out his frustration on someone, even if he isn't frustrated by Mycroft. He ignores the what is actually making him frustrated. He always has.

"Probably because I wouldn't let just any goon in." Sherlock replies. John looks pointedly at the man and woman there. Sherlock looks at them.

"Oh please, they are most definitely not Mycroft's. Besides, I think Mycroft just enjoys manipulating people, so he sent you." Sherlock says with a smile and drops casually onto the couch.

"A trait that runs in the family apparently." John mutters and immediately regrets it when he sees Sherlock's face.

"Well I guess I should go then. You're obviously fine." John says and hurries out of there.

He hails a cab and doesn't look back. He'd rather be in the middle of a fist fight with some bad guys than in this situation. Whatever this situation is. And that's really the problem. He has no idea what this situation is! He is mad at Sherlock because of the fact that he is using drugs, yes, but it's more than that. Seeing him there with those two strangers, it didn't sit well with John. He knows it's selfish but he had always thought he was the only one who could get through to Sherlock, except maybe that wretched Irene Adler. He shudders at the memory of Sherlock being entranced by her…charm.


	20. Complicated

JOHN POV

Rosie is finally asleep and John is dying of exhaustion but instead he sits on the bed with the photo of Mary in his hand. He lets a tear slip, after all no one is there to see. He is alone. That thought isn't helping his situation whatsoever.

"I don't know what to do Mary. I'm completely and utterly lost. You would know what I should do but you aren't here. I need you to be here! Am I selfish to not want Sherlock to be happy with someone? Is that selfish of me? I don't even know why I would want that! Yet you somehow knew, in the letter. Maybe I've suppressed it for so long that it's become this distant impossibility. Pure and utter denial. Just like the denial I felt when he died. Just like the denial I felt when you died. Is it selfish of me to think these things not long after you…you were taken away from me? But I don't know how much more my heart can take Mary. Maybe I should move away from London. Start a completely new life with Rosie, far away from Sherlock, and anything that represents him and you." John says into the silence of the room. He knows he could never move away. This is his home.

SHERLOCK POV

Sherlock is lying in bed, for the first time in a few weeks, alone. He should be asleep but instead his mind keeps running through the first time he had taken John to Angelo's. They barely knew each other and already Sherlock had a soft spot for the man. Honestly, despite the predictability of John, somehow he managed to fascinate Sherlock. That awkward conversation they had at Angelo's is something he regrets. He won't deny it. John's question about dating and sexuality was so surprising that he didn't have any pre-prepared responses. No one ever really asked Sherlock these questions. Everyone either assumed or stayed clear of him. But the doctor, in his awkward way, asked. Sherlock somehow managed to close, no shut, no even better, slam the only door available that could have lead the detective and the doctor to being something more than whatever they were. He practically locked the door and barricaded it. Of course he is aware that John prefers the company of women so that might have been a difficulty as well but that evening didn't help. It makes no sense to wonder over these things. John has his little family away from Sherlock and this is better for them both.

JOHN POV

John sighs. A sigh of giving up one might say. He knows he can't live a life without Sherlock in it, even if Sherlock's role will be minimal. He can't avoid the man.

John laughs as he stands at the Baker Street door, again. Why is it never Sherlock standing in front of his door?

"John?" Sherlock says from behind the door and opens it. He stares at the laughing John.

"We're going to the pub tonight." John says to Sherlock.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock looks John over in concern but it makes John blush.

"Nothing is ever alright when it comes to you Sherlock, so come on and let's go." John starts tugging on Sherlock's sleeve.

"Why were you laughing?" Sherlock asks ignoring John's pulling and so he let's go.

"The amount of times I have stood in front of this door after swearing I never wanted to see you again…well it's embarrassing. Now, grab your coat and—" John tells his friend the truth, at least the partial truth.

"Um, John, I already have plans." Sherlock says still not moving from his spot. John takes a step back as if he received a blow to the chest.

"Oh. Right. Of course you do. Never mind then. I'll probably have a better time with Greg anyways, you've never been the best in pubs. Well I'll see you another time then. Bye." John moves backwards towards the stairs and runs out before Sherlock has any chance to say a word.

SHERLOCK POV

Humans don't make sense. Sherlock flops his body onto the couch and puts his arms behind his head. He is vaguely aware of a young woman entering the flat, leaving, and subsequently Mrs. Hudson berating him for some reason but he tunes them out. He had been sure he would never see the doctor again and there he was at the door. He looked sad. Maybe he should have gone with him. He wanted to but perhaps John was out of his mind and forgot he never wanted to see Sherlock again. It will be better if John finds a pretty woman at the bar.

JOHN POV

Despite being rejected by Sherlock, even as a friend, John finds himself at a nearby pub. Not long into the night he receives a text from him:

Find a nice, pretty woman. You will feel better. - S

John bristles, closing his hands into fists and leaves the pub before he manages to take out his anger on an innocent bystander. He walks at a fast pace towards his house but somehow, damn his brain, finds himself on Baker Street.

He storms into the flat, ignoring the fact that it isn't his anymore.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" John yells.

Sherlock sits up from his previous sleeping position on the couch.

"John?" Sherlock rubs his eyes.

John flexes his fists and grinds his teeth. Eventually his fists connect with a nearby vase.

"John! Calm down! What happened? Who did this to you?" Sherlock asks taking a step towards the doctor.

"You did!"

"Don't be ridiculous, I didn't say anything."

John knows that is the crux of their problem, lack of proper communication.

"Your text was an obvious indication that you want me to leave you alone." John snarls.

"How could you have possibly come to that conclusion?! I know you aren't one for deducing but that was a bad attempt." Sherlock says. Somehow Sherlock's calm is making John even angrier.

"If I remember correctly you are the one who wanted me out of your life so I did as you said." Sherlock says.

"You never do what I say! Why this time? Why?!" John asks but Sherlock has no answer.

"You've hurt me Sherlock but I realized that I can't just throw you out of my life. I came to make things better between us but you have obviously moved on with life." John says quietly.

"Moved on John? I have not moved on! I know your tiny little ignorant mind cannot quite comprehend many things but I have most definitely not moved on. You were my only friend! Possibly George, but never mind that. And then I lost my only friend, so no, I have not moved on from you stripping me out of your life." Sherlock raises his voice and John must admit he wasn't expecting it.

"…grieving…" John mutters. Mycroft said that Sherlock was grieving. John assumed he was grieving for Mary but perhaps he meant the loss of a friend. Why is John always the one left feeling guilty?

"What?"

"Nothing. And his name is Greg, damn it Sherlock."

SHERLOCK POV

Sherlock frowns trying to understand what John meant by grieving. Perhaps he was referring to himself as grieving for Mary.

"I am sorry if I offended you with that text. I only wanted you to be happy." Sherlock says.

"Sherlock, you are probably the furthest from knowing what makes me happy." John says.

It stings but he knows that John is right. He always thought he understood John but he doesn't.

"I know I've never been a good friend but I need you to understand that I did my best. I never wanted her to die. I never wanted to leave London, leave you." Sherlock says quietly.

JOHN POV

"Sherlock, I know, I know. Sometimes I forget that your mind isn't clouded with the same things as that of others. And Mary? That is not your fault. I blame myself enough. And yes I am angry at you for jumping off that bloody building but the amount of people you must have saved…you have an amazing heart, despite what people might say. I'm just hurt and…" John moves closer to Sherlock to console him.

Before he can say anything else Sherlock is hugging him. That's new. He didn't think Sherlock knew what hugs were let alone be one to give them out.

"I hurt you…?" Sherlock asks.

"It's not your fault. If anything it's mine." John mutters.

"Tell me. Maybe I can fix it." Sherlock says and let's go of John.

The heat leaves John and he finds himself craving it.

"I…I can't." John says smiling weakly at his friend.

Sherlock reaches out to caress John's cheek and for a moment all of life's problems seem to disappear.

He gulps, takes a deep breath and steps away.

"So…tell me about this new girlfriend of yours." John asks with the widest smile he can muster up.

Sherlock frowns. "Girlfriend?"

"Or…is it boyfriend now?"

"I wish…" Sherlock mutters but John doesn't quite understand what it means.

"Complicated?" John asks.

"Very. You have no idea." Sherlock says.

"I think I might. Trust me." John says.

"Oh? You're in a…relationship?" Sherlock asks.

"…I wish…Let's just say the person is very complicated and doesn't reciprocate my feelings. But that's okay. Perhaps my life is too difficult right now to deal with that." John says skirting dangerously close to the topic of him and Sherlock.

"Do you ever have regrets?" Sherlock suddenly asks.

"Regrets? My life is filled with regret, so yes. Anything in particular?" John asks thankful for the diversion.

SHERLOCK POV

"I have many regrets as well. You know what I regret?" Sherlock can't believe he's going there but maybe since he knows in advance that John will reject him he can tell the doctor how he feels.

"Other than leaving me here to think that you were dead?" John says bitterly. Sherlock winces.

"Other than that."

"No idea."

"Angelo's." Sherlock says. He swallows and wonders whether he should elaborate or just leave it at that.

John frowns.

"I don't get it. You'll have to be more specific. The amount of times we've been there…"

"The first time."

"You regret ever taking me there? Great. Thanks."

"No! What? I didn't say that. I mean I regret the conversation we had." Sherlock says in frustration.

John thinks a few years back. It's been a long time since he's met Sherlock.

His heart starts beating. Sherlock knows that he likes the company of both men and women. Breathe John, breathe.

"Look, I didn't know you back then, so I wasn't about to come out as bi alright?"

"You're bi?" Sherlock asks.

"Oh. Nevermind. Sherlock, you're being annoyingly cryptic."

"I mean I regret lying to you about my…availability."

"Oh right you said you don't really do the dating thing…or something like that."

"Yes."

"Yet here you are practically with a new date every day."

"Well that's a bit of an exaggeration."

"Look, I get it, we didn't know each other."

"I wasn't completely truthful, you weren't either. It's fine." John says but his insides are burning at the memory of Angelo's. So many things could have gone differently if both of them had been truthful. Of course now that Sherlock has a mystery woman or man in his life, not much has changed.

"John, I—" Sherlock begins but is interrupted by the loud steps and the door opening.

"Good, you're here. I've got a case for you Sherlock." Lestrade says.

Sherlock restrains from punching the detective. He was having a moment.

"Oh, John, hey. You're welcome to join of course." The detective says.

"No, I have to go. Rosie is waiting for me." John turns and leaves before Sherlock has a chance to say what he wanted to.

Sherlock sighs and takes the folder Lestrade is holding.


	21. Blind

JOHN POV

John taps his fingers impatiently against the tea table. Sherlock said he wanted to meet at the flat at 6pm and looking at the watch it is now half past. John sighs deciding that either he got pranked, Sherlock is playing mind games, or he forgot. Of course, he had resigned himself to these options a long time ago so it's not that much of a surprise.

He stands up, coat in hand, and heads for the door when some commotion below alerts the soldier in him. But before he can think more about it a person runs into him, slamming him down on the ground, followed by six gun shots. John automatically reaches for his gun when he realizes it's not there. This isn't Afghanistan nor is he on a case with Sherlock. It's then that he realizes the person who threw him to the ground is still on top of him. That person being Sherlock.

"John! Are you alright? Did you get shot? Are you hurt?" Sherlock asks frantically touching him down but not moving off of him.

"I'm fine Sherlock, I'm fine." John says placatingly.

Sherlock briefly leans his forehead against John's, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. John doesn't move an inch not used to the closeness. Sherlock raises his head back up but not too high and the sun manages to shine down on his locks in such an angle that John would think his friend was an angel or a saint with a halo. He gapes and unconsciously reaches out to put his fingers through some of those curls. Sherlock doesn't stop him but John doesn't think he would have heard. Instead the sunshine, the hair and Sherlock's caring face has him completely entranced.

"You saved me." John whispers.

"I will always save you John." Sherlock whispers back and reaches out to caress his cheek. John is surprised at the movement but doesn't stop him. It feels…good.

"A friend told me once that I should just risk it…but I don't know if I can." Sherlock suddenly says.

"Hm?" John says not completely in this world as he's still playing with Sherlock's hair.

"You look worried." John says and frowns. He gently traces Sherlock's face with his right fingers.

"I…" Sherlock begins and closes his eyes. It's a sight John wants to commit to his memory forever.

SHERLOCK POV

"You can tell me, it's okay." John says and Sherlock shudders at the sensory overload of John's caress and soft tone of voice.

"It is not so easy John. I fear that I may lose my only friend if I tell you this. And I don't want that. I have already lost you many times before—" Sherlock begins but John places his finger on Sherlock's lips. It takes all of Sherlock's power to not kiss the finger right then and there.

"Sherlock. I've already told you that nothing can take you away from my life and I don't want it to. No matter your strange…ways, I care for you a lot. Whatever you have to say, I will not judge." John says.

It was supposed to be encouraging but it really wasn't.

Sherlock wonders whether he should get off of John before he says what he does. Either to give John the space to take it in, or run away, or punch him if he must. But he can't quite bring his body to lift up so he stays there inches away from John's face.

"Perhaps I will using actions rather than words." Sherlock says and John just waits.

Finally, Sherlock gathers enough courage to place his lips to John's. He would watch John's reaction but is too afraid of the rejection he knows is coming so he closes his eyes. Somehow it makes John's lips that much sweeter. But before he knows it he's being pushed off of John. Sherlock's heart crumbles but he tries not to let it show.

"How could you do this to me Sherlock?! Do you think this is a joke?" John yells. On the inside Sherlock curls in on himself, on the outside he pretends none of this is affecting him.

"No, I do not think this a joke. Perhaps I should have asked before." Sherlock hangs his had.

"You can't just toy with people's feelings. What experiment is this for, hm?" John asks bitterly.

"What?" Sherlock asks in confusion.

"People have actual feelings in this world. And somehow you've figured out mine, but you can't just play around with my feelings…'oh let's see what makes John tick'. It's not fair and definitely not something a friend would do." John says turns around to leave.

"John! I…this wasn't me playing with your feelings…I wouldn't do that…I'm confused…what did you think that was?" Sherlock asks, desperately not wanting John to leave but at the same time unable to bear the hurt rejection anymore.

John doesn't answer.

"There are better ways you could have rejected me Doctor Watson." Sherlock just says and turns around to the window.

JOHN POV

John's heart is burning inside of him. His lips are still burning from the wonderful kiss Sherlock had given him even if it was all for manipulation or some stupid experiment.

But what Sherlock just said stops him in his tracks.

"What?" John asks turning back to see Sherlock standing facing the window. His tall back is hunched, his hair messed, and his head hanging low.

"Nevermind. Perhaps you should go, I have…a case I need to work on." Sherlock says and John knows he's lying because he just finished the case.

"Sherlock, I need you to tell me exactly what all…that was." John says pointing to the ground whilst attempting to turn Sherlock around. Sherlock's stubbornness doesn't allow that so the doctor decides to stand in front of his friend instead.

"Why does it matter John?" Sherlock looking out the window and avoiding John's eyes.

"Because maybe I really am as stupid as you like to insult me as." John says.

"Is this some new form of torture? Make me explain myself, Watson?"

"No, it's not. I just…perhaps I misread…everything." John says looking away in embarrassment.

"I was merely showing my affection towards you. How I felt. But it is obvious to me that you do not feel the same way, and that is alright. But I have—" John stops Sherlock mid sentence by kissing him.

He can't believe how stupid he was and he hurt Sherlock by reacting the way he did.

"I am so sorry Sherlock. I didn't realize…I thought…I am so sorry. I feel the same way about you."John says blushing at the last part.

Sherlock returns the kiss ardently. Every once in a while they stop for air or Sherlock's remark on various statistics on how long a person can kiss.

Before long Sherlock's coat has been shed and so have their respective shirts. John tries not to comment on all the scars on Sherlock's body. He knows there will be time later to talk about that though he has a feeling Sherlock will be less than willing. But maybe he can use Sherlock's new-found weakness, sucking on his earlobes, against him.

John never realized how big Sherlock's hands were but he does as they roam across John's chest and face as if he was trying to commit this tactile sensation to his Mind Palace. Somehow the two of them find themselves lying back down on the ground where all this started. Sherlock peppers John's face, neck and chest with little butterfly kisses that make John feel like he can fly.

"Finally." Mrs. Hudson says from the door and walks into the kitchen shaking her head. The two men break apart as fast as they came together. They stand up and search for their shirts.

Mrs. Hudson looks at the two and laughs.

"Oh don't mind me, I just came to make some tea. My kettle broke." She says and pours the water in as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

John wants to be angry at her for interrupting their heated moment but something she said caught his attention.

"Um…Mrs. Hudson, did you say…finally?" John asks.

"Yes. Honestly, you call yourselves detectives but you couldn't even see what's right in front of you. Unfortunately, thanks to that thickness of yours I lost a hundred quid." She says.

The men raise their eyebrows in question.

"Some of us have been putting down bets on whether or not you two would finally get together, and then how long it would take you. I had put my bet on three years ago so I definitely lost. But I believe Detective Inspector Lestrade is the winner…or is it Mycroft Holmes? I can't quite remember."

"You had a betting pool Mrs. Hudson? This is ridiculous."

"Not as ridiculous as us not realizing…all of this." Sherlock points vaguely in the air.

"Perhaps." John smiles widely.


End file.
